there's bound to be talk tomorrow
by singsongsung
Summary: Ensemble fic, multiple pairings. "Baby, it's cold outside."


A/N: This is a future-fic. Each of the "titles" for the sections of it come from the lyrics of _Baby, It's Cold Outside_, and the Glee Cast version ft. Darren Criss is the recommended soundtrack. Happy holidays!

* * *

**beautiful, please don't hurry.**

He pulls the comforter with him when he rolls over top of her, cocooning them beneath it as he presses kisses down the column of her neck, smiling against her skin at the sound of her happy sigh. All of her skin is flushed and warm and _perfect_ and she tastes like heaven when he covers her lips with his.

"Mm," she murmurs, back arching a bit as she opens her mouth against his, their tongues dancing. She's still a little breathless when she says, "You…"

Teasingly, he prompts her, "Me…?"

She shivers a little when their eyes meet and it sends a thrill through his whole body. "_You_," she repeats, and the way she says it makes it sound like more than enough.

He grins wolfishly at her, hands moving lazily over her body. "You're one hell of a Christmas present yourself, beautiful."

Serena smiles, hands running over his back as he admires the way she looks with her hair tangled against the pillow and her lips kissed bare and red – it makes him want her all over again.

"I've been so good this year," he says, voice low, slipping an arm underneath her and rolling them over so that she's lying on him instead. "Won't you let me have you once more?"

Her hair falls into her face and she breathes a laugh as he tucks it behind her ears for her. "I'll let you have me always."

"Baby," he sighs, sinking his hand into her hair. It's unfair, how easily she undoes him. He sits up beneath her and she wraps her legs around his waist, trailing kisses along his jaw until she reaches his ear, where she tugs at his earlobe with her teeth.

"I love you," she whispers, soft and sweet and far better than _merry christmas_ could ever be.

He leans into her and lays her down so that her head is at the foot of the bed and his feet are on top of the pillows, bumping the headboard. He fully intends to spend this entire night proving his love for her, over and over on this bed, and to wake up tomorrow and to do the same thing.

"Carter?" she asks faintly, eyes shimmering in the half-lit room.

"I love you, too," he promises her, smirking slightly, "And I'm going to show you how much now, and for the rest of tonight, for the rest of the holidays…" He starts to trail kisses down her body, over her collarbone for a moment before he moves to her breasts. "For the rest of my life," he adds, not quite able to look her in the eye for that one.

She grabs a fistful of his hair and makes a sound at the back of her throat. "Are you proposing to me on the eve of my best friend's wedding? And while I'm naked?" Her breath catches. "Because I don't think my grandmother would approve of that."

He stretches up to kiss her again and she all but melts into the sheets beneath him. "Your grandmother has been planning our wedding for years, and from this moment onward, she's not a conversation topic allowed when we're in bed together."

Serena giggles into their kiss and he feels it again, that rush of love, the one that started in the heady Hamptons summer they spent together when she was barely out of her childhood – she's the only one he's ever known worth that feeling.

"Shh," he tells her lightly, nipping at her lips, "and let me work my magic."

He sets back on his original path, hands on her thighs, kisses down her torso – but when he gets to her bellybutton she tucks her hand under his chin. He glances up at her and sees that she's breathing hard but shaking her head –

"I have to go," she says softly, regretfully. "Tomorrow's the big day."

"Tomorrow," he agrees. "It's still tonight."

"B and I are having a sleepover tonight." She smiles. "It's a girl thing."

He crawls back up her body, kisses the tip of her nose. "I thought _we_ were having a sleepover tonight."

"Tomorrow night," she corrects gently, propping herself up on her elbows. "Tonight, I need to be with her."

"Let me give you something to tide you over until then."

She laughs, pushing him off of her gently. She touches his cheek, skimming her thumb tenderly over his skin. "You've given me plenty," she says, and from the look in her eyes he knows she's not just talking about the fact that he managed to make her scream.

He turns his head and kisses her fingers. "More where that came from, beautiful."

Serena smiles, plucking her dress up from the floor and pulling it on without a bra, finding her underwear nearby and slipping it on underneath. "Zip me, baby?" she requests.

He stands up and tugs on his boxers and does as she asked, his knuckles brushing her spine. He kisses her neck as he finishes and she sighs, tilts her head back and allows it, so he slides his arms around her, the heel of one hand skimming over her hips while the his other hand cups her breast.

"Carter, I'm late," she mumbles. "She'll kill me – "

"You'll kill me," he responds, biting at her neck a little; she lifts one hand up to cup the back of his neck, fingers threading into his hair. "Blair will live."

He tugs the hem of her dress up inch by inch, his hand rubbing at the curve of her hip, thinking of the lacy underwear beneath. He starts to inch her zipper down again.

"I can't." She's almost laughing, he can hear it in her voice, but he can also feel the runaway beat of her heart. "Carter, really – " Her breath hitches, just barely, but he hears it. "Really, I _can't_."

"It's such a Blair Waldorf thing to do," he sighs. "Throwing her wedding on Christmas Day, like she _owns_ it."

"She wanted a white wedding."

"Well, _I _want – "

"Don't," she protests, "Let me – "

He can't help but notice how she hasn't moved away from him. Gently, he spins her around in his arms and kisses her full on the lips, his mouth open against hers. Her arms come around him, fingers clawing into his back.

"That's my girl," he murmurs into her mouth, backing her up gently against the wall, slipping his hands under her dress to push her underwear down her legs.

She slips her feet out and kicks the black lace away. "I really can't stay, Carter." Her eyes are the dark, stormy blue he loves, and he knows he's won.

"Let me love you once more, beautiful," he murmurs against her neck, hooking his hands under her thighs and a moment later he's inside of her, her legs wrapped around his waist, her eyes squeezed shut.

"You," she whispers, like he's her whole world, their foreheads touching – and before she goes (_if_ she goes) he thinks he might tell her that it could've been a proposal, what he said earlier, if she wants it to be.

* * *

**what's the sense in hurting my pride?**

Chuck watches wordlessly as Nate sets two glasses down on the table and then sits down in the other chair.

"So," Nate says, "our ex gets married tomorrow."

"_Our_ ex?" He almost smiles, which makes Nate grin.

"Yes, _our_."

Chuck smirks, picking up his glass and downing its contents in one swallow.

"I can't get drunk, you know. I'm in the wedding tomorrow. It's important that I be fully there. She might kill me if I'm not," Nate tries to joke.

"Yes, I know."

Nate drums his fingers against the tabletop. "Want to talk about it?"

"Nothing to say." He doesn't really want to _think_, either, so he's relieved when Nate refills his glass.

"We can just sit here. You can drink and I can watch."

"Sounds like a foolproof plan, Nathaniel."

Nate's voice hardens the slightest bit as he says, "You can't get drunk tonight either. You have to _be_ there tomorrow, just like I do. You can't be hungover and you can't show up late. You're just as important."

Chuck stares at the liquid in his glass. "I wouldn't do that to her."

And he can feel the way the weight of Nate's gaze changes into something warm and friendly. "I know you wouldn't, man."

* * *

**get over that hold out.**

She slams the door behind him, moving quickly away from where the melting snow on his clothes and boots is starting to drip onto the floor.

"If there wasn't a blizzard," she says, "I would _not_ be letting you in."

Dan shakes the snows off of his mittens and hides a smile. "Understood."

She pouts, her silk robe falling open as she drops her hands to her sides. "You're breaking _tradition_," she huffs, biting her lip.

"Traditionally," he tells her, "I'm not supposed to see you in your wedding dress, and I'm fine with this whole we-won't-see-each-other-before-the-ceremony thing, but…" He smiles at her, unable to help it. "It isn't technically our wedding day yet."

"Oh, is that how we're going to do this? _Technicalities_?" Her lips are pursed.

"Yes," he says easily, reaching out to loop an arm around her waist. "That's exactly how we're going to do this." With his free hand, he reaches up and skims his thumb over her lower lip. "You're happy to see me."

"I didn't say that."

He kisses her, soft and quick. "You're thinking it."

"You have no way of knowing that," she protests, but her voice is quieter and she's leaning into him a little.

Dan tilts his head the slightest bit and teases her, "Did you _miss_ me?"

She shoves at his shoulder and then that same hand grips the lapel of his coat tightly. "Never," she says, a smile tugging at her lips.

"C'mon, Blair." He skims his hand down the side of her, stopping at the curve of her hip. "You already made me wait two months before you agreed to marry me."

"Two months is a perfectly acceptable – "

He silences her with a kiss; it startles a noise from the back of her throat. "I don't have that long tonight," he tells her, still nipping at her lips.

Her eyes are dark and a little dazed but that doesn't stop the way her eyebrows arch. "Are those really the rules you want to play by?"

"I don't play games." He tugs at the tie of her robe. "You know that."

"Not true." Gently, she pushes his coat off of his shoulders. "You just let me make the rules."

"As much as I hate to admit this – "

She smiles prettily at him, lashes fluttering over her eyes as she takes two steps back – and he follows her every movement. "You like my rules," she gloats.

Their noses bump as he stumbles after her; she's moving backwards to his bedroom door. "You make your rules on my turf," he tells her between kisses. "Or have you forgotten that you've moved into my Brooklyn apartment?"

"Not officially," she scoffs, sitting down at the foot of the bed and tilting her chin up, peering at him alluringly.

He smiles triumphantly as he leans down toward her, his hands braced on either side of her body on his mattress. "Technicalities," he points out.

Blair tries and fails to hide her smirk. "You're not going to win."

"I don't have to win." He leans over her and she falls back against the mattress, biting her lip as she watches him. "I'm not playing the game."

She tucks her fingers under his chin. "You know that means _I _win…"

"Guess you deserve to, then," he mutters, and then he kisses her quickly before trailing his lips along the line of her throat.

"Dan," she says breathily, and he grins against her skin.

"Marry me," he replies.

She laughs but it gets caught in her throat, and there isn't a moment of hesitation before she says, "I love you, Humphrey."

It's not quite a _yes_ but Dan decides that it's better – decides that he wins.

* * *

**gosh, your lips look delicious.**

She sees him just outside the building, navy blue winter coat covered in a layer of powdered snow, and she jogs a couple steps to catch up, slipping her mittened hand into the crook of his elbow.

He starts at the gesture and she smiles. "Hey, you. You've got perfect timing, you can be my escort."

His smile appears right on the heels of hers. "Hey yourself. What are you doing here?"

"Your best friend summoned me." He lifts an eyebrow. "Apparently she would like her fiancé escorted home before midnight. I'm not entirely sure what she means by _home_, since she's living at his place now, but…I guess I'll find out. Maybe he can crash with me or something."

She giggles. "B will never change."

"You're happy," he observes with the barest hint of awe. He slows down, eventually coming to a stop. "I thought you might have had some misgivings about tomorrow."

"I don't." Serena searches his eyes. "Do _you_?"

"No," he says quickly – it's old news, their exes together. And then all of a sudden he's touching her cheek with cold fingers as he remarks, somewhat wistfully, "You're lit up brighter than a Christmas tree."

She feels a pang, somewhere deep down – he's right, she's happy, but it feels strange to be with him and to have the cause of her happiness be someone else altogether. They're old news, too, him and her, and Serena knows his heart about as well as she knows her own by now, knows that he's not quite willing to let history claim them yet.

Abruptly, his mouth is much closer to hers, only a breath away.

"Nate," she sighs.

Their kiss is easy to fall into; he tastes like snow and hot chocolate and so many of her memories, tongue sweeping past her lips. She stays close to him for a moment after it ends, hoping he understands that this is the last time she'll allow that to happen.

Then she smiles and he smiles and she says, "Let's go."

* * *

**i'm lucky that you dropped in.**

Nate lifts one hand to knock on the door. "Yo!" he calls into the loft.

Serena giggles next to him and yells, "The escort you requested has arrived!" She leans her head against his shoulder and he feels that old, familiar longing as he wishes that his shift and jacket weren't creating a barrier between their skin. "They better hurry up," she remarks. "It's almost midnight."

"Almost Christmas."

She lifts her head and gives him a sweet smile. "Almost."

The door swings open and Dan walks out, looking fondly exasperated. Blair is standing right behind him in her robe, a similar smile on her lips. She reaches out and grabs Serena's wrist, pulling her inside before slamming the door shut.

"Bye, boys!" Serena calls through the door.

Nate looks at Dan and shakes his head slowly. "You had to go and break the rules."

Dan laughs, almost privately, thinking his own thoughts. "Sorry, man."

They move toward the stairs and Nate laughs, too. "I guess I forgive you."

Dan opens the door, leading the way outside. "So, you and Serena, you came together…?"

"Nah, we met outside."

Dan looks so doubtful that Nate feels him balk.

"We _did_! Serena and I are just friends."

With a glance toward the sky, Dan says, "You and that sentence, bro…it's kind of the like the Boy Who Cried Wolf."

"I'm telling the truth," Nate pouts.

"Jeez." Dan winces. "Stop looking at me like I just kicked your puppy."

"Say you believe me."

"I believe you."

"Once more with feeling!" Nate cheers. He feels happy all of a sudden, with the Christmas lights twinkling in everyone's windows and that holiday buzz in the air, hanging out with Dan after Serena kissed him.

"I _believe_ you," Dan says, chuckling.

Nate grins at him. "Dude, you're getting _married_ tomorrow."

Dan glances at his watch and holds it out for Nate to see. "Today, technically."

"Are you nervous?" His smile slips a bit. "I used to think about marrying Blair and it made me nervous. Not in a bad way, just…nervous."

"I don't have two families, including a very intimidating grandfather, breathing down my neck and expecting perfection," Dan says gently.

Nate feels his smile spring back to his lips; that's true. "Blair expects perfection sometimes."

Dan nods. "The difference being that Blair deserves it. Or at least as close to it as I can give her."

Nate can feel his smile widen into a grin. "You're a sap, Humphrey. You're lucky that I allow sappiness on Christmas."

"Lucky, huh?"

"Yup. You're also lucky that I'm not going to give you a lecture about breaking her heart. I was going to, before you turned out to be such a sap."

"Guess I am lucky."

Nate gives his eyes a tiny roll and sidesteps so that he bumps into Dan. "Once more with feeling."

"I am lucky," Dan says, this time like he means it. "You're my best friend." He lifts a hand and rubs at his hair.

Nate stops walking so abruptly that a group of carolers heading home almost run right into them. "_Really_?"

Dan gives him a slightly incredulous look and ducks his head a bit. "Well, yeah. I know Bass saw you first so he has a _claim_ on you or whatever he thinks, but…you can be my best friend too, can't you?" He quirks an eyebrow.

"Dude!" Nate all but yells, slinging an arm around Dan's shoulders. "_Such_ a sap."

"Shut up." Dan elbows him. "I'm a writer. It's allowed."

"It's totally allowed." He starts walking again and confirms, "I'm your best friend."

Dan laughs. "Sweet."

Nate has an idea. "You know what else is sweet? Ice cream. Which we are going to get now."

"Right now?"

"Why not? It's Christmas. You're going to get married. Let's face it, neither of us is getting laid right now…" He grins. "And we're best friends. Perfect ice cream time."

"Perfect ice cream _float_ time," Dan corrects.

"That was the answer of a best friend," Nate declares easily. "But ice cream floats with alcohol in them would be even better."

* * *

**well, maybe just a half a drink more. **

It snows on her wedding day: soft, perfect flakes drifting slowly to the ground, exactly what she would have ordered from Mother Nature if she could.

She wakes up with Serena in her bed, blonde hair strewn across her pillows. Fleetingly, and with a rush of strange emotion, she thinks she'll miss Serena in her bed: waking up like this has been an integral part of her life for as long as she can remember. She brushes her lips against the corner of Serena's mouth and whispers, "Morning, S."

Blinking sleepy eyes at her, Serena says quietly, "Last sleepover ever."

"Not true." Blair smiles. "We have to do this before your wedding, too."

"M'not getting married."

Blair sits up slowly. "Whatever you need to tell yourself."

"I'm _not_," Serena insists, closing her eyes again.

"We have to get up, S. Showers and breakfast and makeup and hair…"

There's a beat of silence.

"You're getting married today," Serena murmurs.

"Yes."

Serena tugs Blair back into bed, arms wrapping around her. "Five more minutes."

With a quick grin, Blair gives in and closes her eyes. "Merry Christmas, S," she whispers.

* * *

**my sister will be suspicious. **

Jenny is sitting on Dan's bed, an empty mug at her feet, her chin in her hands as she watches him fuss with his tie.

"Stop it," he says firmly. His eyes meet hers in the mirror. "You're giving me that look."

She pouts. "What look? There's no look."

"Yes there is. It's the look everyone, including our wedding planner, gave us when we said we wanted to have our wedding on Christmas."

"_We_?"

He gives her a sharp look. "Yes, _we_. Don't do that. Make your peace with her, at least for today."

"Dan…" She looks longingly toward the living room of the loft, which is now mostly Dan's home though they all invade occasionally. Unwrapped Christmas presents are piled around the prettily decorated tree. They did Christmas here yesterday morning, a full twenty-four hours before the rest of the world; their dad had asked Lily if they could celebrate in Brooklyn, just this once. And now it's Christmas Day and Jenny's wearing a dress – paid for by Lily, approved by Blair – instead of her pyjamas.

"Jenny," her brother echoes, teasing.

"At this time on Christmas we're supposed to be sitting around drinking hot cocoa with our family."

She can hear the way he makes his voice gentle when he says, "Blair's part of our family now, Jen."

"I doubt Blair identifies all that strongly with Humphrey traditions."

"We'll find a way," he offers, "to mix traditions. You know that Blair loves tradition."

"I just…I can't believe you're in love with her," she admits softly.

"Surprised me too. At first."

"And you're marrying her, so you want to…you plan on loving her forever."

"I do," he agrees, softly buy firmly, and she hears the truth in his words.

"Say it like that," she sighs, relenting. He shoots her a questioning look and she clarifies, "When you're marrying her, when you say that you'll have and hold her 'til death do you part. Say it like that."

He beams at her and nods. "I will." He sighs and undoes his tie yet gain, dropping his hands to his sides in frustration.

She stands up and moves toward him, smiling. "Engaged to Blair Waldorf and you still can't tie a tie?" She clucks her tongue disapprovingly.

"I _can_," he defends himself. "I just can't do it _perfectly_." He makes a face at his reflection. "Blair likes to do it for me, so I let her."

"Do you think she'd mind if I did it for you this once?"

"Yes," Dan says, but he turns around and holds his arms out to his sides, giving her access to his tie, and he's grinning.

* * *

**at least i'm gonna say that i tried.**

Lily has been married several times – maybe too many times – but this wedding, this Christmas Day marriage of her stepson and the girl who may as well be here daughter, is everything she wishes her first wedding (and second and third and fourth) had been.

Blair's dress is undeniably beautiful, the fabric looks creamy and the skirt if full, but the girl in it is shining much more brightly, her skin flushed from the cold and happiness, her eyes glittering. When she leans in to kiss the man who is now her husband, she closes her eyes and tilts her chin up and he cups the back of her head with his hand tenderly, touches his other hand to her waist, and it looks like a fairytale, like an illustration from a children's novel: happily ever after frozen in time for a moment.

Eleanor bursts into tears. Lily smiles.

When Serena and Nate, as maid of honour and best man, are the first to join Dan and Blair on the dance floor, Lily looks at the four of them and realizes abruptly that she could have been attending completely different weddings at this point in time. And she hopes, a little desperately, that perhaps the children she watched grow up are wiser than she was at that age. Maybe they know what they want and what they need more than she ever really has. She didn't help with that, she knows, but maybe they figured it out on their own.

Maybe they believe in love in a way she spent a lot of her time forgetting how to.

She hopes.

* * *

**my brother will be there at the door. **

He finds Chuck standing outside, on a balcony, watching the snow fall.

"Don't jump," he quips.

Chuck glances at him and lifts an eyebrow. "I'm not going to dignify that with a response."

Eric shrugs happily, moving to stand at his adopted brother's side. "It was in bad taste."

They're quiet for a moment, standing next to each other, leaning their elbows on the balcony's railing. The snow keeps falling, big flakes that drift lazily to the ground.

"So," Eric finally says, "our sister's getting married."

Chuck snorts. "It's like an epidemic."

Eric grins in a way he knows is disarming. "Don't be a Grinch."

"I'm being logical, little brother. The bride threw the bouquet right _at_ her, she had no choice but to catch it."

"And the second she caught it she started undressing Carter Baizen with her eyes," Eric says wryly, remembering the look that had passed between them. "She was _blushing_. You and I both know that it takes a hell of a lot to make that happen."

"S has been denying that she's fucking anyone, never mind seeing anyone, for months."

"Exactly. Blair must have figured it out."

Chuck grimaces. "_Baizen_," he sighs. "Of all people."

Eric shrugs.

And Chuck gives him a sidelong glance in response. "You really think our girl would let herself be tied down?"

"I think people surprise you," Eric replies evenly, returning Chuck's glance. "I know Blair did."

Chuck looks at his hand as though he wishes it was holding a glass of scotch. "Yes. Well."

Patiently, Eric waits to see if he wants to say more.

"Serena will surprise Nathaniel," Chuck finally blurts out, and then abruptly looks like he's said too much.

Eric nods, knowing it's inevitable – it has been for years – and then bumps his elbow lightly against the other man's and teases, "Maybe you and Nate should surprise each other," with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

That startles a laugh out of Chuck. "You _have_ a boyfriend," he points out.

"I'm talking about _you_, man, not me." He grins and then a moment later he shivers, the chill starting to get to him. "We should go inside."

"Yeah." Chuck straightens up and his mouth curls into something that's more of a smile than a smirk as he lifts a hand to Eric's back. He sighs. "Merry Christmas, little brother."

* * *

**_ah, baby, it's cold outside. _**


End file.
